Wicked And Divine
by DelightMeWithYourScreams
Summary: Not all kinds of love are pure and honest; Loki's certainly isn't. In his confinement in Asgard, he finds solace in the company of a young boy from Midgard. IRON MAN 3 SPOILER ALERT!


**SPOILERS FOR BOTH IRON MAN 3 AND THOR: THE DARK WORLD TRAILER AHEAD!**

**This is the prequel to _Battle For The Sun_, a Iron Man 3/Thor cross-over FrostIron fic I'll start uploading as soon as the first chapter is done! Hope this piece will pique your interest in the meantime!**

* * *

Loki watches the boy sleeping. He looks peaceful, his lips slightly opened, his hair tingling his eyelashes, long as it is, his slim body curled up against the god's side. He snorts in his sleep, nuzzles against Loki's arm and clutches his clothes with his small hands.

Against his own expectations, Loki enjoys his company.

The young Midgardian can either talk about everything and anything for hours on end or stay silent for just as much and leave the god to his thoughts. He has a childish yet sparkling mind, a very lively intelligence, he asks many questions but is also patient enough to listen to the answers eagerly.

Even though he is always scolding the boy for using the Norn Stones on a whim such as paying him a visit, even though he sometimes actually sounds angry, the Midgardian is a part of him now. When he is absent for days, Loki worries, even misses him. When he eventually shows up, he feels relieved and tells him off and holds him firmly against his chest, breathing his scent in hungrily, almost desperately.

He denies his feelings at first; after weeks of the boy hanging around in his cell more often than not, he has to admit to himself that he loves him as if he were his own child.

Only, he is not.

He is a son of Thor's, albeit unbeknownst to his own father, and the god has to remember it. He can indulge him, he can appreciate his presence, he can even feel affection for him, but he cannot allow himself to get too attached to him.

As long as the Midgardian is oblivious to his own origins, he may care about the god, even love him to an extent; Loki is not prone to believing he would do the same if he knew. He is still his father's son, after all, and Thor has mocked, disrespected and disgraced him so many times Loki himself has stopped keeping score. He will not let one of his children humiliate him, too.

It is at times like this that he finds it tougher to stay true to his purposes, when the boy falls asleep with his head resting on his shoulder and his little fingers cling to him for dear life and Loki knows he is loved.

Despite his many flaws, his many failings, he is still loved so genuinely and purely and he wants to permit it, _craves _for it even.

Yet he never forgets it is bound to end, he never forgets he has chosen to be selfish and revel in the boy's visits as long as he can instead of revealing him his parentage and risking that he leaves, he never forgets someday the Midgardian will find out and despise him for keeping the truth from him. Until then, though, he allows himself to be serene.

In truth, it is easier than he has ever thought it would be.

He does not have to worry that someone might find out about the boy: thanks to the power of the Norn Stones, he can come and go unseen and unheard by anyone except for Loki.

Deeming his cell resilient enough to contain him, the Asgardians barely check on the god once a day and therefore gift him with plenty of alone time – he can sense their fear and takes pleasure in it, sometimes he even acts in order to stir it up, albeit carefully, lest they alarm the royal family.

If he grows tired of the company, he is not forced to put up with it. Sometimes they both need solitude: the boy has a soft spot for Midgardian engineering, which Loki cannot quite grasp without direct experience, despite the Midgardian's efforts to illustrate its basic principles, whereas the god reads and meditates on magic – since Odin has sealed the source of his powers, they let him keep a stack of books of spells on top of the only table in his cell.

Taking into account the many analogies between them, every now and again Loki wonders, conjures up memories from ten years ago, tries to make the pieces fit together in the shape of his fantasy; after all, he cannot base his speculations solely on the boy's appearance and it is true he and Thor used to share their partners back then— except he would remember having a child. Unlike the Thunderer, who would mingle with any living being out of some childish competition with the Warriors Three, Loki was extremely picky and careful about merging with no less than Asgardians, let alone breed.

As much as he might enjoy entertaining the thought, he can't claim to be the Midgardian's father.

When the boy wakes up, Loki is staring into the distance, lost in his calculations, but he notices nonetheless, though he doesn't say anything. The Midgardian doesn't break the peaceful, soothing silence either – then again, the god muses that he wouldn't mind if he actually were his son.

"Uncle?" the boy calls out softly.

Despite his staunch fighting against his deepest feelings, there are times in which the most honest side of Loki knows the little Midgardian is already one of his weaknesses.

Then there are times such as this one in which the rest of him acknowledges it, too, though briefly, as he brightens up and feels ridiculously satisfied by being called _uncle_. It is an endearing nickname the boy gave him years ago, unaware of how true it is, and it makes his heart leap in his chest every time he hears it, as pathetic as it may sound.

"What is it, Harley?"

Even after ten years, that name still sounds foreign on his tongue. Odd, although not unpleasant.

"Did they tell you when you'll be released?"

Since the god assumed most humans must know about his attempt to conquer their planet, the first time Harley asked who he was he didn't bother about lying, hoping the truth would serve to get rid of his unexpected and unwanted guest.

At first he was surprised because the boy didn't seem concerned with the knowledge at all; by now he has learnt the boy knows better. He never judges, never pries too much into matters he is likely to disapprove of, never handles Loki as though he is a bombshell bound to go off at any time. Harley loves him thoroughly and sincerely, meaning he accepts both his qualities and his flaws.

He doesn't expect the god to be as golden and valiant as Thor, to act as bravely and recklessly as Sif or to eat as passionately and beastly as Volstagg. Harley doesn't expect him to be anyone but Loki, doesn't _want_ him to be anyone but himself.

"I do not know yet," the god replies in a quiet tone, carding his fingers through the boy's thick, golden hair. "Though I believe it will take a very long time".

The young Midgardian nods, raises a hand and twists a handful of Loki's hair around his slim fingers. The god can almost hear the gears in Harley's head turning as the boy studies the length of his uncle's ink-black strands, apparently fidgeting with them lazily, while actually calculating time. "Will you visit me then?"

Loki doesn't respond immediately, taken aback by such inquiry.

Many times has he dreaded Harley's eventual depart from him, whereas the boy has been anticipating with fear the exact opposite. The god has been too absorbed by his own sentiments to notice and take care of the little Midgardian's, despite claiming to love him so much.

He rests his hand on top of Harley's head and rubs his scalp in soothing, apologetic motions. "Yes, I will," he promises, voice solemn as he looks down, straight into the boy's blue eyes.

So similar to Thor's, they remind him of his childhood, of hide-and-seek in the golden streets of the Realm Eternal, of long-ignored humiliations and long-forgotten displays of affection. Both love and bitterness fill what is left of the god's heart, he leans down and presses a kiss to the Midgardian's forehead to seal their deal.

Alike the Thunderer as he might look like, Harley is no Thor.

Harley belongs to him, and Loki will make sure no such thing as his imprisonment or the passing of time or even his own false brother will change that.

"I will never forget about you, Harley".

Magic – the smallest quantity he can capitalize on without the All-Father realizing it – blends with those words and that kiss, turns the innocent promise into the unbreakable oath of a warlock, leaves the boy momentarily dizzy and breathless.

As the god pulls away, a rune glows on Harley's brow briefly before it disappears underneath his skin, prompting Loki's lips to curl up in the smallest of smirks.

Loki loves, Loki protects, Loki owns.

In his own devious, imperfect way, yet he does nonetheless.


End file.
